


Lion of Judah

by saaaammmyy



Series: Lion of Judah [1]
Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV), The Legend of Sleepy Hollow - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Fantasy, Gen, Other, Quest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2014-03-20
Packaged: 2017-12-30 04:03:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saaaammmyy/pseuds/saaaammmyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichabod and Abbie learn of a possible solution to the Horsemen problem that is plaguing Sleepy Hollow. However, the solution requires Ichabod to stay away from Katrina, much to Abbie's delight. As Ichabod spends some time away from Katrina, he comes to realise Abbie's feelings towards him and begins to find similar feelings within himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Corbin's findings

‘Leftenant, may I ask what this is?’ Abbie turned to find Ichabod holding her apartment’s wireless router in his hands and looking down querulously at it.   
‘It’s a router Crane, now put it down and get over here’ she said, smiling as she turned back to the pile of papers on her dressing room table. She felt like one addressing a curious child, only Crane wasn’t a child and thank god for that. Otherwise, she couldn’t have ever come to terms with the feelings that were creeping in, the uncontrollable grins whenever she saw him, the tell-tale flutter in her stomach that made her uncomfortable, like she was a teenager again. But most of all, the happiness she felt whenever he was close by, the pure unadulterated joy that came from Crane being well…  
‘CRANE. Didn’t I say to put it down? What have you done now?’ she turned when she heard the beep from the disconnected router. Ichabod dropped the device like it had just grown a set of teeth and looked with a child-like wonder as Abbie reconnected the wireless router.  
‘I’m sorry Leftenant, I just could remove my hand from the clutches of its numerous tentacles’ he said, pointing to the wires protruding from the sides of the box. Abbie dismissed the remark and pointed to the files.   
‘Now, I was going through Corbin’s case files and I found something interesting. In this old clipping it talks about the Seven Seals. The first four refer to the four horsemen, the fifth releases martyrs that cry for God, sixth seal prompts disasters and the seventh cues seven of heaven’s rock band –‘   
‘Heaven’s rock band?’ he interrupted  
‘Rock band, trumpets, Louis Armstrong with wings. The point is, if the four horsemen are out, then someone has obviously broken the first four seals.’  
‘Yes, but what significance does this have to anything? It’s not like we’re likely to find the man, after all, he’s probably dead unless his wife who, like Katrina, was also a witch and also put him under a sleeping spell.’  
Abbie groaned and turned to Ichabod, ‘Yes, unless he turns out to be your parallel self, I doubt he will be up for an interrogation. But Corbin found a piece of myth that stems back many millennia that talks about how only the one who broke the seals can control the monsters released’  
Ichabod’s eyes betrayed his amazement, and Abbie heard his sharp intake of breath  
‘Do you realise what you have just discovered? The answer to our problems, the key for the puzzle, the lock for the cage in which we can entrap these demons. Leftenant, this is excellent work indeed!’ he said breathlessly, pacing back and forth. ‘But the problem still stands, how is the original breaker of the seals supposed to control the Horsemen when they themselves are incapacitated? Are you saying we must resurrect them? Surely that’s both impossible and violates several laws of nature. How else are we…’  
Abbie grabbed hold of Ichabod’s arm and diverted his sea blue eyes to her, ‘Stop Crane, you’re giving me a headache. Let’s just take this one step at a time. But before you ask, don’t contact your witchy half.’   
‘My witchy half? You mean Katrina? Why in the world not? After all, she’s probably the person to ask when trying to contact the other side.’  
Abbie stopped, wondering how to tell Crane that his wife had been mentioned in all of the myths from which Corbin had been gathering his information. Admittedly she wasn’t sure if it was Katrina, but she couldn’t lie and say that it wouldn’t be satisfying to have Crane to herself for one case.   
‘It’s just lore. Along with telling us that the breaker of the seals has the ability to control the horsemen, it also tells us of a witch who can break this control. The witch won’t know she’s doing it as she can’t help herself, think of it as an inbuilt mechanism that is activated once she knows that the horsemen are going to be controlled. It’s better not to get Katrina or any one in her coven involved so as to stay under their radar.’ She looked up at Crane, trying to calculate his reaction without getting too involved in the way his eyebrows crinkled when he was thinking. He raised his hands in defeat, ‘Okay Leftenant, this is our quest then. Just you and me.’


	2. Coffee and Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They find their new lead as Ichabod finds himself entranced by Abbie

‘Here’s your coffee Miss Mills, milk and one sugar like you asked’ declared Ichabod as he placed the cup next to her hand and fell back into the chair beside her desk. ‘I must say, as outrageous as the taxes are nowadays, the vast variety of food that’s available is simply astounding. I mean, these are simply delicious, these bread things like look like the moon’

Abby looked up to see Ichabod place the last piece of his croissant into his mouth and grin at her like a satisfied child after eating an entire bag of candy. ‘Those are croissants Crane, glad to see there’s something about the 21st century you like.’

‘Well I just do not understand why people won’t just write, rather than messing around on those Apples. Nor do I understand why someone would name a device after a fruit…’ Abby shook her head as she listened to Crane’s ramblings. Initially, they’d frustrated her but now she just found them quite amusing. She looked up to see his piercing blue eyes fixed directly upon her and admired the expressiveness of his face. Crane could tell a whole story without needing to utter a sound from his lips, but in doing so, he’d also be committing a public disservice. After all, there was nothing quite like a British accent to make a girl swoon. Abby quickly composed herself and stood up,

‘Crane, you’ve just got to deal with it. Like how I’ve had to deal with the whole witness thing and having George Washington’s best friend as my sidekick’

‘I wouldn’t call him my best friend…’ started Ichabod but fell silent under Abby’s glare. As the two left the precinct, Abby related what she had just found.

‘There are four horsemen, Death, War, Famine and Conquest. By breaking the seal, the person released these entities into the world and would have created an onslaught of their consequences – heaps of people would die unexpectedly, a sudden shortage of food, a significant increase in violence, that sort of stuff. Going through county records, I found a timeframe within which the person responsible would have lived.’

‘Brilliant work Leftenant,’ said Ichabod, with awe evident in his voice, ‘and you got that from simply pressing a few buttons and 10 minutes with your extremely knowledgeable friend Siri? It seems like this century does have quite a few things to offer other than food.’

‘Yes Crane, maybe you’ll be less hard on this era once you find out how friendly Siri actually is’, she said ‘I narrowed it down to one family, the Ritters. They moved here from Wisconsin a few years before crazy things started being reported, you know, stuff like what Jenny and I saw, and have stayed in Sleepy Hollow ever since.’

Ichabod watched her as she spoke, her hands moving whilst she explained the genealogy of the Ritter family. He wasn’t as interested in which uncle moved away when as he was in the way she would move a stubborn strand of hair behind her ear every few minutes, only to have it escape a few minutes later. He watched the way her eyes seemed to brighten whenever she got to a bit which she found extremely interesting and the way her nose crinkled whenever she frowned at a part she still couldn’t believe.

‘Crane, are you even listening to me?’ He smiled abashedly and tore his gaze away from her and nodded for her to continue. Abbie bit her lip to hide the grin, she noticed the way Crane would watch her as she talked and it took every grain of willpower within herself to continue talking as she felt his periwinkle blue eyes on her. She’d never admit it, but she always dragged out her explanations, adding more information than necessary, just to feel his eyes on her and experience, even for a moment, the sensation of being the centre of this strange man’s universe.


	3. The Books

The house stood imposingly above the two figures and stared them down. An odd pair; a man in an outfit that looked as if it had been plucked out of a storybook and a young woman with her hand placed cautiously on the gun at her hip. She turned towards her partner before returning her focus back to the door and knocking on it firmly enough to dislodge specks of worn red paint. The man looked around, observing his surroundings and trying to place this particular location in the map from his days in the Revolutionary War that had been ingrained in his mind.

‘Leftenant, I don’t believe anybody is home.’ Ichabod remarked quietly, giving Abbie a knowing look. She rolled her eyes and pulled a hairpin from her pocket as Ichabod promptly turned around and stood behind her like a sentry on guard.

‘This better goddamn be worth it’ she muttered under her breath as she expertly manoeuvred the bobby pin around the lock until she heard a distinguishable click. What would Corbin say about her now, she wondered as she slowly pushed the door open. What greeted them could only be described as dirty. Cobwebs lined the walls like old forgotten Christmas decorations, glistening as light from the boarded windows hit them. A faint crackle in the nest of rotting cardboard made Abby jump, a move that didn’t go unnoticed by the overly observant Ichabod who smiled at her momentary loss of composure. _Miss Mills, I believe I have found a weakness of yours._ The couple turned the corner and found themselves looking down a daunting flight of stairs which seemingly led into darkness.

‘I feel like I’m in a horror movie and this is the part where the audience is yelling at me to leave this godforsaken house’ mused Abby, shining the flashlight into the shadows. Ichabod reached over her shoulder and gently wrestled the flashlight from her hands.

‘Though the saying goes ‘Ladies first’, I consider this occasion to be the exception to the rule’

‘Chivalrous as always I see,’ teased Abby, ‘be careful Crane, who knows how long it’s been since these stairs held any weight.’

‘Duly noted Miss Mills’, he said, stepping into the abyss with the flashlight in one hand whilst protectively holding Abby’s arm in the other. By the time they’d reached the foot of the stairs, the contents of the basement had become evident to the pair. There were jars lined like soldiers on every shelf that encircled the room and at its centre stood a table, upon which some books lay, abandoned.

‘Religious Lore and its practical uses’ read Abby, drawing her fingers along the book’s leathery cover. Ichabod hurriedly flipped through the pages of the book, rustling through the pages as his partner studied the jars with a mixture of disgust and fascination. After a while, she heard the frantic page-turning stop and a small murmur of delight from Ichabod. ‘What is it Crane?’ she asked, bending down to look at a jar within which a pregnant mouse could be seen floating within a dense pink liquid. '

‘Your friend was right, there is a way to control the horsemen and it does have something to do with the breaker of the first four seals. However, it’s unfortunately more troublesome than what we’d originally thought’, he paused for a moment, eyes scanning the rest of the text ‘According to this text, it seems as if the power of the horsemen is passed onto whomever inherits the power. I’m not absolutely sure, but that sounds as if it’s transferred to whoever kills the power’s previous owner. That either makes things a lot harder or a lot more difficult, what do you think Leftenant?’ he looked up and saw Abbie cradling a small leather notebook in her hands, her ponytail resting on her shoulder as her head was tilted downwards towards it. Crane recognised it immediately from it’s yellowed pages and small red sigil on the corner of the black cover, reaching for it and gently but forcefully wrenching it from Abbie’s clutches.

‘This belonged to the white headed priest…’ he murmured, ‘the one killed by Death, the one who was there when I was…put to sleep. It seems as if he knew a lot more about this than we originally thought.’ He fell silent as a small picture fell from the pages of the notebook, a drawing of a woman and an older man. Abbie recognised the duo immediately.

‘That’s Katrina and the Priest…’ she said, confusion evident in her eyes as she looked up at Crane. _Me with my daughter Katrina_ was carefully written on the back of the picture.

‘He was her father…’ Ichabod said finally, eyes wide as he tired to reconcile what he had just learnt. ‘He was her father…yet she told me her parents had died years ago.’ Abbie reached up to place a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, but a passage in the diary caught her attention.

23 April 1756:   
I made the previous mistake of breaking the first four seals and releasing the demonic entities into my world. The Legend goes that whoever kills me will inherit the power over these evils and I can feel danger drawing near. I have taken precautions to keep this power from entering the wrong hands, binding its power to one of my most valuable items which I have hidden. I shall watch over this item of Purity until my last breath, and even then it shall be guarded by heaven.

Ichabod’s smile returned to his face as Abbie finished reading the entry. ‘Miss Mills, we’re going on a treasure hunt!’ he exclaimed, grabbing her hand and the two books as the two ran out of the house. On the way to the cabin, Ichabod sat shotgun peering over the diary and the book of Lore whilst Abbie tried to remember the way his hand felt in hers. Katrina had lied to Ichabod about something as important as family, and that’s not mentioning the whole ‘witchcraft’ thing. Try as she might, Abbie could not ignore the feeling she could feel in the pit of her stomach. It felt like hope, hope that Ichabod would finally realise that Katrina was no longer the woman for him.


	4. Purity

There was a chill which ran through the wooden interior of the church, as if spirits from decades past were whispering to the pair to run. Ichabod looked down at Abbie, her hands buried in the pockets of her leather jacket, shoulders hunched forward to protect from the cold. He would take her hands in his to warm them, wrap his arms around her to shield from the chill… but that wouldn’t be proper. He cleared his throat loudly as an image of the two of them curled up in a ball entered his mind and he immediately gave a small shake of his head to abandon the image from his thoughts. 

‘This is the church where Katrina’s father was priest, and also the grounds of his untimely murder. Miss Mills, I believe that this is the place where he would have hidden the artefact, guarding it for decades from the clutches of all who would use the power of the horsemen for evil.’ He pulled out the small diary and flipped to the diary entry, ‘He refers to it as an ‘item of Purity’…’ 

‘Well,’ interjected Abbie, ‘a church is technically a ‘pure’ place full of ‘pure’ items, it’s like looking for a needle in a pile of needles!’ The cold was getting to her head and all she wanted to do was leave this church. She’d never had any good memories of church; her mother forced her and Jenny to attend bible classes where they’d memorise passages of the bible. Once, she’d made the mistake of asking Sister Elizabeth what the point of the exercise was -  Abbie shuddered at the memory of being lectured for three hours on the merits of the bible, the healing presence of God, and the corrupt world that lay outside the walls of the church. 

‘I wish I didn’t agree with you Miss Mills, but you’re correct in your analogy of our situation. Unless we find out more about this item, it will be an almost impossible task ahead of us. After all, Katrina’s father could have easily just blessed the item with holy water thus rendering it a ‘pure’ object.’

Abbie frowned as she surveyed the large hall. Unlit candles were lined up on the altar, a large gold chair sat imposingly on the right side of the room whilst the podium upon which the readers would stand was placed on the right. Behind the altar was a red light which shone above the sacristy, symbolising the flame that led the people of Israel from the desert…or Pentecost, she couldn’t remember. But if there was something pure… 

‘The Sacristy, Crane, it’s the Sacristy!’ 

They walked briskly towards the red light, neither feeling quite comfortable to run in the church. It was like one of those unspoken rules - you don’t run in God’s house. As they stood in front of the little box which held the Body and Blood of Christ, she could hear Ichabod’s breathing, rhythmic and soothing. She grasped the golden hook which opened the box and there was…nothing. The box was empty, and she let out the breath that she didn’t realise she’d been holding. 

‘Well that was wildly disappointing’ muttered Ichabod, turning away from the box as if it hurt him to look at it. ‘Where to next Miss Mills?’

Abbie stared down at the empty sacristy, willing the unknown item to materialise as if by magic, to no avail. She held out her hand to Ichabod, ‘The diary Crane, maybe there’s something we missed.’

Abbie sat down on the first row of pews, quickly scanning the pages of the diary for any morsel of information they might have missed. She re-read the diary entry and a crease began to appear between her eyebrows. Ichabod, who had been watching her from the stairs in front of the altar, stood up and walked towards her. ‘What is it Leftenant?’

She placed the diary in his hands and pointed at the entry, ‘Here. It says that ‘I shall watch over this item of Purity until my last breath, and even then it shall be guarded by heaven.’, but how can an item be guarded by heaven? I mean, souls are guarded by heaven, not things. There’s no such thing as a heaven for all my pens and pencils - Crane?’ Ichabod’s face had paled and his eyes stared blankly out into the distance. She gently held his arm, ‘Crane? What is it?’

‘Leftenant, we’ve been sent on a wild goose chase. I know what the ‘item’ is, I have always known. The thing of Purity, oh how unexpectedly simple. And yet, so complicated.’ He looked down at Abbie’s confused face. ‘It’s Katrina. Katrina is the ‘item’. Her name means ‘pure’, and we are looking for something of purity. It’s Katrina, she’s the answer.’ 

As Ichabod walked out of the church, Abbie lingered behind as their situation became clearer. Katrina was the item to which the power of the horsemen was bounded and the horsemen had been released into the world, wrecking havoc and destruction wherever their steeds took them. She felt a chill pass through her body and knew that it had nothing to do with the complete lack of heat within the church. Katrina was the answer…but she was also the problem. 


	5. The Graveyard

Abbie Mills yet again found herself in the church cemetery, a place she’d only started to frequent since Crane mysteriously appeared that fateful day. Ichabod Crane, the tall, dark and gorgeous Time Traveller who’d just waltzed his way into her life with his British accent and cheekbones and - 

‘Miss Mills, are you alright?’ 

Crane’s voice interjected Abbie’s train of thought and she nodded a little too quickly. 

‘Yes of course I am, now what are we doing here Crane?’

The couple stood before Katrina’s headstone, noticeably cleaner and better managed than the others in the graveyard. _He must come here pretty often then,_ Abbie thought as Ichabod knelt down and caressed the stone. _Oh what I wouldn’t give to be that stone._

‘Katrina is the object to which the power of the Horsemen is bound,’ started Crane

‘So you want to break the bond and reattach it to something else so the Horsemen can be controlled?’ finished Abbie. Ichabod frowned.

‘No Leftenant, I wouldn’t put it quite like that. This is not one of your ‘apps’ that can just cut something and glue it somewhere else. It’s a lot more complicated than that, after all, we are dealing with forces that neither of us fully understand.’

She tried to suppress the smile from reaching her lips, but there was something so strange about Ichabod and his need to complicate things that stirred some girlish instinct within her. Abbie was never one to giggle and twirl her hair at the boys, but this was Crane and he was the exception. 

‘So what do we do now?’

‘The Book of Revelations contains a passage about the Seals. It speaks of the Lion of Judah, the one who holds the power to loosen the Seals. By this, it can be inferred that the one who has the ability to loosen the Seals will also be able to somehow tighten them. Quite possibly, this will reverse the process to such a degree that the Horsemen will be returned to the depths of Hell to which they belong.’ Ichabod started to pace around the cemetery, head down in thought as he spoke quickly of his hypothesis. ‘If we believe that Katrina harnesses the power that first belonged to the breaker of the Seals - that is, the Lion of Judah - then we must also believe that she too holds the power to loosen the remaining Seals. Somehow, we must contact Katrina for that is the only way we can possibly unbind the Horsemen from her.’ Ichabod noticed her silence and walked over to her. He carefully brushed her hair from her face and bent down to look her in the eyes. ‘Leftenent?’ he asked quietly, unaware that his hand still cupped her face. He found himself marvelling at her beauty in the evening sun, the softness of her skin beneath his fingers, her long lashes and big brown eyes that looked up at him with - what could it be? In one swift motion, Abbie pulled Ichabod towards her by his coat collar and placed her lips upon his. In that moment, the quest was forgotten as Ichabod found all thoughts expelled from his mind - all but that of the softness of Abbie’s lips, the way her hair felt running between his fingers, her hands moving from his chest to his neck as she laced them and pulled him even closer. He felt himself pushing her backwards but had no control over his actions. Abbie leant against Katrina’s headstone and felt Ichabod slowly relax as he ran his hands over her back, down her body and onto her thighs. She felt a moan escape her lips as she momentarily lost her balance, drunk on the moment of passion. _Damn you Crane_ she thought, _Damn you but don’t you dare stop._ Ichabod lifted her up by her thighs and balanced her on Katrina’s headstone. She instinctively wrapped her legs around him and heard his sharp intake of breath as he felt her body against his. His kisses travelled down her chin and she felt the tickle of his beard against her neck, the tingle of his lips against her skin as she tilted her head to the side and let his kisses explore. 

Then, it stopped. Ichabod pulled away as suddenly as she’d kissed him. he looked at her, conflicting emotions of lust and guilt written over his face. He spluttered a quick apology and strode away, running his hands through his hair and leaving a turned on Detective breathing heavily in the graveyard, leaning against the headstone of his wife. At the Church entrance, Ichabod collapsed against the wooden door and slowly slid down onto the ground. His head in his hands and a million emotions running rife through his mind and body, he tried to think through the original plan to find Katrina and ‘tighten’ the seals. But all he could think about was Abbie’s touch, her lips, the feel of her body against his and the unspeakable things he was going to do if he hadn’t found himself regaining his senses. For once in his life, he found himself cursing his common sense and his mind. _If only I’d been a 21st century man…oh God what have I done._


	6. Confrontation

Abbie paced nervously around the cemetery, pausing every so often to shake her head at her own rash actions. Kiss Crane? What the hell had she been thinking? But her thoughts floated back to the memory of his hands on her legs, the need she read in the way his lips crashed against hers, the incredibly sexy way in which he’d lifted her up and -  
She stopped short and looked back at the headstone. _Oh God, I just made out with Crane over his wife’s grave - literally._

The detective knelt down and stared into the distance, her mind hopelessly trying to concentrate on what Ichabod had been telling her about the Seals. ‘He said something about Katrina tightening the seals…’ she murmured, hands instinctively picking at the grass beside her, ‘something about how it should return the Horsemen to hell but only if…’  
‘But only if the two of you could contact me to start with.’  
The strange voice startled Abbie, and she immediately reached for her gun. She spun and came face to face with a tall slender woman, with fiery red hair and deep mossy eyes.  
‘Katrina.’ It was more a statement than a question for it was immediately obvious to Abbie who this beautiful stranger was. _No wonder Crane misses her_ she thought with a pang of jealousy.  
‘Miss Abigail Mills. I presume you’re wondering how I returned from the dead.’  
Abbie nodded, though in truth she’d been thinking about how Crane would kiss Katrina, running his fingers through Katrina’s hair the way he ran it through hers just mere minutes ago.  
‘Firstly, I wasn’t dead. I was stuck in a place between living and dying, a place that allowed me to see the world but rendered me incapable of interacting with it. So I saw everything, including your scandalous liaisons with my husband’ Katrina’s voice was cold as ice, her lips pursed as she regarded Abbie with an air of displeasure. ‘Your behaviour caused the veil to break in my fury, but it shall soon return to its original state and again cause me to be a silent on watcher to the ongoing… _affair_.’  
‘Listen Katrina, it was honestly a one time thing. We thought you were dead and so…’ started Abbie, feeling a slight blush creep up her neck at the disapproving tone in Katrina’s voice  
‘So you decided to force yourself on Ichabod at the sight of my death, throw yourself at him like some common whore.’ It wasn’t an accusation, but rather said in a matter-of-fact tone which only made it all the more insulting. Abbie bit her lip as she tried to contain herself from simply lifting up her gun and firing one, no two shots in the woman’s general direction.  
‘It was a mistake, it won’t happen again.’ said Abbie simply, holstering her gun as to prevent her from giving in to temptation for the second time that day.

‘Very well, but you’ll forgive me if I don’t trust you around Ichabod for longer than necessary. In regards to the seals, yes I’ve been listening. Ichabod was right. I can return the horsemen to their seats in Hell, but only from the mortal realm. That is, in the land of the living. I can feel the veil returning and I have mere moments to spare before I’m thrust back into my glass prison so I cannot attempt it now. However, this veil is breakable, though every time it is broken my time on earth grows less and less. Break the veil and bring me Ichabod. To complete the ritual, I’ll need the two of you. Ichabod often remarks that the two of you are bound by destiny, but in reality fate has chosen the three of us. Without me, your duo can accomplish nothing. Bring me Ichabod, and the horsemen can be returned.’  
‘How do I…’ But Katrina was gone. It wasn’t a puff of smoke or anything dramatic like that, she was just there one moment and gone the next. H _ow the hell do I break the veil?_


	7. Hunger

‘Crane. We have work to do.’ Abbie stood awkwardly above the slouched figure in the doorway, not knowing how close was an appropriate distance to be from a married man she’d just hooked up with over the grave of his not-dead wife. ‘Seriously Crane, we should get going.’ She reflexively reached for his arm, but Katrina’s voice came back to her mind _‘I saw everything, including your scandalous liaisons with my husband’_ Abbie dropped her hand and cleared her throat. ‘I’ll be in the car, if you’re not outside in five minutes I’m leaving without you.’ 

 

The car ride was silent as neither knew what to say. Ichabod tried his best to ignore the figure next to him, but all he could think of was the stirrings he felt as Abbie had pressed against him. Inappropriate stirrings in regions of his body he’d quite forgotten about. 

‘Leftenant…’ he began

‘Oh hi Crane, finally noticed this car wasn’t driving itself?’ 

‘I’m sure this vehicle can manage by itself, if even horses can gallop without a rider, why can’t this vehicle which seems to be able to accomplish a million things.’

‘Maybe because it lacks a consciousness?’ 

‘So even with the capabilities of todays technology, society is still unable to replicate a consciousness. I suppose that does give me some comfort to know that I can’t be replaced by a transformer.’

Abbie smiled, remembering the night she’d watched the first transformer movie with Crane. He’d been fascinated by the huge metal robots and wouldn’t stop talking about them for an entire week. 

‘Nothing can replace you Crane.’ she quickly continued, hoping he didn’t pick up on that comment ‘I know how to summon Katrina.’

There was silence for a couple of moments as Ichabod squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, the taste of Abbie’s strawberry lipgloss lingering in his mind. 

‘Okay Leftenant, let’s call Katrina’

 

His first thought was disbelief. Disbelief, mixed with a strange sort of - could he call it excitement? Abbie had mumbled her way through the explanation, but Ichabod understood what she said even between the numerous pauses and awkward laughs. 

‘So um, Katrina needs to be emotional to break the veil. Uh, when we did that thing, you know, back in the cemetery, she saw and could come to what she called um, the mortal realm. So…yeah, we need to do that again. I mean, to get Katrina across.’

They stood in front of the altar in the light of the setting sun, the stained glass window reflecting the light across the small church. It had been Ichabod’s suggestion that they open the portal here. 

‘Sacred ground, it should be harder for Moloch to close the portal.’ Abbie had agreed, though she similarly thought it’d make opening a portal harder. 

‘Leftenant.’ blurted Ichabod suddenly, striding away from Abbie. ‘I’m a married man and this act we are about to do in the eyes of God is to save my wife. I hope that our incident earlier this afternoon did not confuse you. I hold you in high regard as a partner, and as a friend. However, Katrina is my wife and to her I swore vows, sacred holy vows. Vows that…’ Abbie grabbed Ichabod’s arm and looked into his worried eyes. 

‘Crane. I understand. The thing that happened in the cemetery. it won’t happen again. Well, not after this I hope.’ 

Ichabod looked at her, smiling softly at him in his dishevelled state. The kiss had confused Ichabod, more than it confused Miss Mills it seemed to him. It was like it’d ignited an attraction that he’d been so used to ignoring, so accustomed to disregarding. Ichabod pulled Abbie close and smiled as he gently pushed a stray strand of hair from her face. She looked away, as if embarrassed, but he lifted her chin up to stare into her deep brown eyes. _Eyes I could lose myself in if I’m not careful_ he thought, running his finger down her cheek and brushing it across her lips. _Lips I hunger for in spite of my better judgement_. He let his finger trail down her neck, let his hand flow across her back as he clutched her tight. He could hear his breathing, in perfect sync with hers. Ichabod could feel the warmth radiating from her body as he bent his head towards her neck and gently signed his name with his lips. Her hands gripped his hair, a moan escaped her lips, and Ichabod’s kisses travelled slowly up towards Abbie’s cheek. He could feel the same stirring below that he’d felt in the cemetery, a sensation that caused him to press his hips into Abbie’s. Her moan was more audible, her breathing ragged, her fingers hungrily clutching his back. Then, strawberry lipgloss. 


End file.
